


As it Should be

by Killbog



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Difficult Decisions, F/M, Romance, old/young
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killbog/pseuds/Killbog
Summary: Brigitte makes the decision to part from Reinhardt as he leaves for the Overwatch recall. It's better this way..





	As it Should be

**Author's Note:**

> There is a disturbing lack of Brigitte/Rein out there. I'm trying to correct that.

       Brigitte opened her eyes slowly, the feeling of the familiar flannel sheets against her skin a welcome change to the scratchy emergency blankets she had grown accustomed to. Reinhardt’s low breathing at her side calmed her, as it always had. This was her home, not a war zone. She rolled to the side of the bed to look down at him. His giant chest moved with each breath, illuminated in the yellow glow of the large candle on the bedside table. Outside, the snow fell steadily and Brigitte peeked at her watch. Three AM, much too early to be awake. Luckily she had long ago perfected the art of falling back asleep. She reached a gentle hand down and laid it on his chest, counting each breath in her head. He never woke up, and she never made it past fifty.

       Reinhardt was gone when she woke. The pull out mattress he had used was back under her bed and the candle had been extinguished. She sat up, looking out on the breathtaking view of a landscape dusted in snow. There was a knock on the door and she turned to catch Reinhardt bend down to ender the room.  
       “Ah! Good morning, beautiful!” he greeted her. “Is it not an amazing sight?”  
       His hair was damp from the shower, a cup of coffee clutched in one hand. The older man had no sense of modesty, his only covering a towel from the bathroom slung low on his hips. Brigitte had to agree with his sentiment.  
       “It’s one I certainly missed.” She agreed, moving over so he could sit beside her on the bed. The frame protested under his weight as he settled on it. “Snowshoeing today sound good or we could go into town?” She turned to him, with an expectant smile.  
       “Wonderful, my dear. Whatever you would like.” He gave her a warm smile and Brigitte basked in his attention, her stomach fluttering.  
       Her heart seized in her chest as he wrapped a massive arm around her shoulder and gave her a tight squeeze.  
       “I’m going to go see what your Mother is making.” He rose and at that moment Semla, her long-haired calico decided to pounce from under the bed, catching a claw on the edge of his towel.  
       “What?!” Reinhardt turned to stop the creature, one hand instinctively clinging the towel to his manhood. “You beast! That is mine!” He thundered, trying to free himself from her clutches.  
       Brigitte felt all the blood rush to her cheeks as Reinhardt, practically naked, bumbled about the room. When Semla finally let go, Reinhardt was completely disheveled, strands of his grey hair covering his eyes. He righted his towel and looked sheepishly at her. It was almost too adorable.  
Brigitte rose to her tippy toe’s to push away the hair. He obliged and leaned down so she could reach.  
       “How are you going to manage without me?” She pat down his hair with a sad smile.  
       He frowned at the sore subject. Brigitte knew he wanted her to join him in Overwatch, but she couldn't. As much as her heart clenched at the idea of separating from him she knew it shouldn't continue this way any longer. Something in their relationship had changed not too long ago, and her innocent childhood crush became something serious. It was dangerous, and she did not want to risk her relationship with a man who meant so much to her. Better to bury the feelings deep and say goodbye as he followed his fate and she followed hers.  
       “It will never be too late for you to change your mind, my dear. Remember that."  
       For a moment Brigitte allowed herself to stare into his eyes. The white one, a memory of a story she has been told a thousand times. A memory of fighting, of causes, and of loss. The other a crystal blue full of hope for her to follow him, as a squire should.  
       “Don’t go getting sentimental on me, Old Man.” Brigitte teased.  
       “I suppose I shouldn't, you’re a woman now and you can make your own decisions.” He pulled away from her and reached down to pick up Semla who was rubbing at his calf. The cat purred loudly and nuzzled against his beard.  
       “She really loves you, you know.” Brigitte raised a hand to scratch Semla’s ear.  
       “I know.” Reinhardt responded quietly. “And I love her too.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against Brigitte’s forehead then head to the kitchen.

 

       “Here try some!” Brigitte held up the lussekatter for Reinhardt to taste. He bent down and took a large bite of the saffron bun. He made an appreciative sound and Brigitte smiled as they walked down the crowded aisle of booths. Overhead warm lights were strewn about the trees, lighting up the Christmas market below. She had spent the last few Christmases in Germany with him and dearly missed the Swedish food and traditions. On the wind, the warm spiced smell of glögg traveled to Brigitte and she moaned loudly. To her side, Reinhardt raised a curious eyebrow.  
       “We need to get some!” Brigitte reached out to her companion and pulled him along with her to the mulled wine stand.

       Later, the two sat on a bench a ways from the festivity, watching the bustling market. Two steaming mugs of glögg held in their hands. Brigitte blew on her’s gingerly while Reinhardt greedily drank his.  
       “Ahh reminds me of home.” He growled appreciatively. “I would like another cup or two of this.”  
       “How many of those would it take you to get drunk?” Brigitte teased, she was well-aware of what a heavyweight the German tank was. Entering a drinking contest with him would be a deathwish.  
        Reinhardt growled deep in his throat as he considered this.  
       “You’re right, I will have to get a few beers as well. I’ll be right back.” He winked down at her as he left.  
       Brigitte smiled fondly watching him leave, already missing his company. He was wearing a large fair isle jumper she had knit him last year and a black wool beanie. She thought he looked positively adorable.

       Reinhardt handed over a bottle of her favorite beer as he settled back beside her.  
       “Not German, but it will do.” He laughed as he reached over to pop off the bottle cap easily with his thumb. He had become her personal bottle opener long ago.  
       “Danke.” She thanked him taking a swig. As they sat in comfortable silence a question bubbled to Brigitte’s lips. One she regretted as soon as voicing.  
       “Why did you never marry?”  
       Reinhardt didn’t seem offended, just looked away from her considering his answer.  
       “I suppose no one ever wanted me.” He shrugged. “I was arrogant and didn’t want to be tied down. My life was in pursuit of glory not a family.”  
       “Do you regret never settling down.”  
       “Very much now. I see your father and how he looks at his Grandchildren. I wish I knew that.” He paused for a moment, his eyes empty and sad. “But you know, no use thinking of such things. It will not happen to me. There is still much more good to be done with Overwatch reforming. What do you intend to do when I return to Gibraltar?”  
       “Maybe work on some new armor designs.” She shrugged noncommittally. In truth she had not considered the future without him. It was too difficult.  
       “Hmm.” Reinhardt nodded and took a long swig of beer. “It’s not like you to not have a plan.”  
       “Well I can’t just follow you my whole life.” Brigitte couldn't hide the bitterness in her voice.  
If Reinhardt was hurt by her words he didn't show it. Just gave her a small smile.  
       “Ms. Lindholm, You’ve been an exceptional squire, I couldn't have asked for a better one. And I will miss you dearly at Overwatch. It’s why I still have hope you will change your mind.” He gave her shoulder as gentle a bump as he could manage.  
       “Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red box and handed it to her.  
Brigitte opened it to pull out a beautiful necklace with a tiny golden Dala horse charm hanging from it. She smiled warmly at her companion.  
       “Thank you Reinhardt.”  
       “Allow me.”  
       Brigitte turned to allow him to pull her long mahogany hair away from her neck as he clasped the delicate necklace. His thick fingers warmed the places they touched and raised goosebumps on her arms she was glad he wouldn't notice.  
       “I love it.”  
       “I’m glad.”


End file.
